A Gift for Granger
by Dusked
Summary: Hermione & Draco decide to exchange presents early this Christmas, and it's the Gryffindor Princess to receive her gift first, which is done through a very different approach. One-shot, AU-EWE. Smut, (PWP).


**AUTHOR'S NOTES: **

**Now, this Dramione is nothing but pure smut (very little plot). Why? _Because it's CHRISTMAS! _Also, as I want to spread the smutty, Christmas joy, from the way this one-shot ends, a _sequel _has already been planned which I'll hopefully have written and up very soon.**

**Another small note, concerning the actual one-shot: It is portrayed through both Hermione's and Draco's eyes, as I tend to feel more confident and find more to work with if it is told through two people's perspectives. And given the circumstances of the situation, it's best to have both point of views. The same will most likely be done with the sequel. **

**Finally, a massive thank you to my wonderful beta: _Mrs. Milfoy_**.

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**Disclaimer: **The rights to Harry Potter belong to J.K Rowling and Warner Bros. This story has only been written for fun, and for the entertainment of others.

**Rating: **M-MA

**Warnings: **Quite strong sexual content and language. If you are uncomfortable with either, I suggest you do not read this fic.

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_**A GIFT FOR GRANGER**_

_**By: Dusked**_

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"Are you comfortable?"

Blindfolded and tied to the bed, Hermione whimpered – a sound anyone would be unsure to judge whether it was an encouragement or a signal of fear – but before he could check, she swallowed and answered quietly, "Yes."

"Yes, what?"

She cleared her throat, but she still slipped over a nervous stumble, "Y-yes, Mister Malfoy."

The smirk he wore was practically audible. "Good girl."

In the distance, she could sense his presence, down below her bounded feet, no doubt looking directly at the exposure of her dampening sex. She twitched when she felt one, long finger trace the sole of her foot, and then over the stretch of her clean-shaven leg, stopping at her hip.

"Do you know where you're here?"

She shuddered at the roughness of his voice, and the shock of electricity in his fingertips. "For your use, sir."

"And what is that use?"

Bloody hell, his voice was like melted chocolate, seeping over her like a big, warm blanket. Swallowing again, she tried to force down the lump clotting in her throat. "The use of your sexual pleasure, sir."

"Good girl," he murmured, sliding his hand up her waist, and continued until it was splayed against her neck, the thumps of her pulse erratic. "Do you know what that pleasure will consist of? What I'm going to do to you?"

Her tongue peeked out to wet her drying lips. "N-no, sir."

She heard him hum thoughtfully, and then his hand was suddenly gone as a draw was opened somewhere within the room. A cool, flat object was then laid against her shaky thigh, and she sucked in a trembling breath as she felt his lips at her ear. "Let's have a taster, shall we?"

"Yes – _argh!_"

The response of obedience was cut short as a hard length of wood stung her thigh with a loud _clap_, a bright red mirror of its shape painting her flesh. It hurt only because it had been completely unexpected, but after each hit, Draco would gently caress the new possessive brand, soothing away the prickles of pain.

With each mild blow, pain grew into pleasure, sending sparks throughout her veins, and only four minutes into the first stage of the act it had managed to kindle a fiery flame in her abdomen and a gush of wetness between her legs.

He used it on any part of skin he could reach, the variety of hits switched between very light taps or quite hard slaps depending on the sensitivity of nerves. She knew she was red raw by now even without the gift of sight; her legs, arms, even breasts, but that only increased her burning need.

"Am I the only one who can make you feel this way, Hermione? The only one who can use punishment as pleasure?" He was breathing heavily. "_Tell me._"

She bit her lip, trying to stifle the moans that knocked against her teeth. Even if she'd attempted a lie, the wet trickles down her legs proved otherwise. "Yes! Only you, sir!"

By now, she was panting laboriously, chest heaving with her dusky nipples tightening with each connection of the paddle. It hadn't happened before, but if he continued, she'd probably orgasm without any other form of titillation. Obviously, she wouldn't find out today as he suddenly stopped, and she heard the paddle thud against the floor as he carelessly threw it.

"Now," he started with heaving breaths, and suddenly removed her blindfold. "For taking your punishment like the brave Gryffindor you are – I will reward you."

Once her eyes had focused, she gasped; he was just as flustered as her, an angry rouge to his cheeks as a strain tented his boxers. "Oh, please –"

His hand had covered her mouth, and he whispered, "Only speak when spoken to, sweetheart."

Nodding wordlessly, she heard him open another drawer and then the cap of a bottle snapping open. Rubbing her thighs together, she could all but guess of what he was going to do next – whatever it was, she knew it would be magnificent.

Starting with her neck, Draco drizzled the warm, slick oil down the length – he was obsessed with her neck, the smooth and delicate slope as it joined to the curve of her shoulders – and slid his hands over the supple skin, molding her muscles to unravel all unnecessary anxiety and kinks. She shivered as he brushed her pulse, and her sigh of need must've stolen a reaction from him as she felt his hand stop and dig into her skin for a second.

His hands travelled lower, barely touching the sides of her swelling breasts, and he ran his thumbs along the undersides, teasing an uninhibited moan from his lover; the scented oil he had bought in some Muggle shop was tempting him to quench his thirst, but he held back the raging arousal, stubbornly ignoring the tightness in his boxers. This was going to last.

After several more minutes of his taunts, she nearly cried with relief when he palmed her breasts fully, the heels of his hands awarding her nipples with delicious friction. She arched her back, an ache thrumming in her joints as she writhed against her bonds; she guessed Draco must've charmed the green ribbons to prevent her escape, as if he hadn't, the furious animal inside her would've easily torn them to shreds.

Biting her lips until it nearly bled, she looked up at him and he cocked his head to the side. "Do you want more, Hermione?"

She nodded vigorously, but it proved not enough as he lifted his hands, leaving them to hover over her. The red, swollen circles of her nipples puckered from the cool air and his previous steady stimulation. Thrashing her head from side to side, she bowed her back and squeezed her thighs together, trying to find purchase from the sudden hot fluid gathering down below.

"To get something, you must ask, sweetheart."

Her head flopped back down onto the pillow, and she asked in a strained, keen voice, "Please, sir, please – _touch me!_"

Mouth watering, he gripped her sides and leant down, engulfing her breast in the wet cavern of his mouth. She bucked beneath him and let out a drawn moan as his teeth scraped over the beaded nipple before taking it between his lips and sucking until it was tender and pulsing, the taste of cranberry oil exploding across his tongue like molten lava.

A warm tautness started in the pit of her gut, and she needed it to become undone, focusing on the swirling of his tongue and tugs of his teeth. It was too much and too little, the sensations climbing as he pulled her closer to that wanted surge of feeling.

"More?" He mumbled against her chest, shifting to pay attention to the other breast.

She struggled against her restraints. "Oh, please, sir!"

Stifling a grin, his hand dipped down, fingers grazing against the dark thatch of curls resting at the meeting of her thighs; he knew it was cruel, but he waited until she was close to breaking point. It didn't take all that long as Hermione tried to force his hand lower with relentless squirming, and so he finally severed the distance, parting her and slipping two fingers inside.

_Fuck, _she was so hot and wet that Draco actually groaned against her chest, having to lessen the painful hardness in his boxers by rubbing against the bed. He didn't know how long he'd be able to last, let alone Hermione.

He slowly pumped his fingers, nearly begging in a hoarse growl, "Come on, sweet, show me how much you want it."

Her hips immediately started to move in tempo with his pumps, the ball of tension expanding rapidly; glistening sweat layered her body, her hair a wild mass of frizz atop her head, and her eyes glittered with pleasure that was screaming to be freed. He had only counted to sixty seconds when she came, back arching and tipping over the edge with a lamenting cry.

The first orgasm was always the most powerful; that feeling of rupturing into pieces, white fire erupting over her vision, as the flare of passion spiked her body. Sometimes it could bring her to tears, a total unleashing of emotion after a sexual release, like it was an eternal relief of life itself. She found a pure, intense connection that she only shared with her wizard as a way of coping, as if was something she'd never experienced between until she'd met Draco.

For him, it was the most amazing sight he'd laid eyes on; she'd break apart at the seams, tossing her head back and clutching onto him for dear life. It was beautiful, a graceful moment of utter euphoria that he wanted to have the privilege of viewing until his dying days.

She abruptly felt his fingers slip from her, and a weight crawl up her body. Fingers tangled in her hair and tilted her head up; brown eyes met the grey. "Well done, Hermione. You did good, my sweet."

Silent, she nodded and heard the rustle as he removed his boxers, positioning himself between her widespread legs. The hard, warm length of him slid between her, and she jerked when he ever so slightly touched the over-sensitized nub of flesh.

Groaning, she pulled against the ties, again, regardless of knowing her attempts were futile. "Please, Mister Malfoy."

From her plea and the bodily responses, he slowly entered her, a hiss whistling through his teeth as the soaked, satin feel of her enveloped him. "_Shit._"

He coaxed from her a scorching burn of release with long, slow lunges of his hips that stroked hidden nerve endings deep within her, along with the contrast of gentle, loving nips and licks to the column of her neck and shell of her ear. Upon a violent shudder whipping up her spine, she soon feel apart quickly a second time from the already red, frenzied rising of arousal with convulsing flames, able to bite down on her arm as exquisite spasms shook her.

As she came down from her high with dazed sighs, he continued to move within her, and although the position was wonderful – her control relinquished to him, tied and spread-eagled in front of him – it wasn't bringing him to the pleasure he most craved.

She groaned when he stopped and extracted himself from her, only to gasp when she felt her binds disappear and Draco taking her by the waist and rolling her over.

"On your knees," he softly commanded. "Now."

Automatically submitting – it was a positive sign she was eager and at the close peak of her want – she blindly drew herself to her knees, fisting the oily, silk sheets with white knuckles as if the sheer anticipation was enough to feed her smouldering need of release. She shivered and let out a whimper when his hands kneaded the dip in her back, blending over the lingering droplets of oil and sweat.

He continued to gently caress her as he asked huskily, "Do you want me?"

"Y-yes – _oh!_"

A _slap _struck the air as his hand connected with one plump bum cheek. "Don't stutter," he ordered, his voice soft yet holding a firm tone. "Tell me what you want."

Her fists tightened on the duvet and she swallowed. "I – c-can't –"

Another disciplined slap, this one slightly harder, but not enough to cause any lasting damage. "Yes, you can. _Tell me._"

The bite of his reddening handprint sunk into the soft, creamy skin of her backside, and she yielded in a sudden, gasping shriek, "Yes, please, _fuck me!_"

And that was all he needed, as he snapped his hips forward, plunging into her with one, smooth thrust; he wasted no time in granting her high-pitched plea, clasping her hips with a pressure so rough it would surely leave long-fingered bruises curving her waist. He filled her with long and fast strokes, jolting her forward with each forceful drive, and the tip of him clipped that heightened sensitive spot, as she thrashed and strangled cries burst past her swollen lips.

Thin strands of his fringe stuck to his clammy forehead, the heated air swallowing him up; he powered through, too close to the much wanted end to stop now, even when his knees slid along the sheets from the trials of oil, or when his back started to ache as he used strength that had been left inactive until now.

Her golden, damp skin shone in the faint candlelight, and Draco _almost _faltered at how mesmerising she looked, that she was _his. _Leaning over her, he pressed himself against her back and brushed her hair over to one shoulder, sinking his teeth into the flushed junction of her neck before easing the sting with a light dab of his tongue.

"You're mine, Hermione, only _mine_."

"Yes! Only yours. Always yours," she declared in a rushed choke. "Please – oh, _oh god – _please!"

She was close, so bloody close; her thighs quaked and her back started bow in a smooth curve, the sheets ripping slightly under her claw-like grip. She felt him wrap an arm around her waist and tugged her up until they were both kneeling, and his hot, panting breath fanned her neck as he murmured, "Let go, Hermione, _let go._"

It was everything she felt at that moment that she'd be able to remember for the rest of her life. With their bodies connected, linked together as one, she could feel the burning; an intense, bliss mingled with the infinite cherish and love that would cut wounds deep. In the span of a few heartbeats, she had stripped away her guards and surrendered herself, as their magic and uncontrolled emotions fused, and felt the unrestrained, immortal urge to never leave that moment, to remain this way forever. Unsurprisingly, the sensation was a regular occurrence, and it frightened yet gave her everlasting delight, just as she knew Draco reflected those feelings.

Reaching around, he then feathered his fingers over that small pearl of nerves, and then she finally snapped, as shards of brilliant, coloured star exploded over her eyes. A rhythm of throbs drummed along her skin, as she fell with a shattering wail, "_Draco!"_

It took all strength – albeit lacking from the soft and hot and sticky wet sensations of her fluttering around him, and the awe-striking sight of his lover completely losing herself again in the overwhelming moment of fierce rapture – to keep up his quickened pace. Thankfully, it only took one, two, and three more hard thrusts for him to burst with a throaty groan, his insides clenching almost painfully as a wash of pleasure coursed through him.

Afterwards, they lay in each other's arms from the mutual collapse of exhaustion, legs tangled and smeared with oil and sweat and the remains of their ecstasy. It didn't matter, they were far too tired and sated in the bask of afterglow to clean themselves; besides, round two was sure to take place in the shower.

She tugged his head down for a kiss, nibbling and running her tongue over his bottom lip before humming, "God, I love you."

His chuckle flittered against her temple, followed by a languid, open-mouthed kiss. "You're welcome," he teased as his fingers glided up his sides, a sheet of goose-bumps left from his actions. "Though I'm surprised as to why this be considered your Christmas present. I would've done it without the influence of a festive season…or your fascination with kinky sex."

Of course, she been quite surprised herself by her own bloody request, but when she'd watched Draco lick his lips and a glint twinkle in his eyes, she was more than positive to experiment her little idea. It wasn't all about that buzzing thrill to play submissive, well, it was partly, but more that it brought them closer, as if each intimate moment soldered their souls together, the two of them binding the paths of their horizons and for a split second, both foresee an exact mirroring of their futures.

Gazing up at him through half-lidded eyes, she shrugged. "I don't know. This year I didn't want any expensive or ornate jewellery or clothes or holidays – this was simple, but special, Draco."

"It was special for me, too, and because of that mind of yours, I know exactly what I want for Christmas this year."

"Oh?" She cocked an eyebrow, tingling at the fresh prospect and the smirk that grazed the corner of his mouth. "What might that be?"

Laughing softly, he smothered her with another kiss. "You'll just have to wait and see, sweetheart."

**~ END ~**

_**For now...**_

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**Oh, please, be dears and drop a review. It'll make Christmas all the more special.**

**Also, I'm aware this isn't quite the hard submissive most would've expected, or even wanted. Personally, I find Draco better when he is not too dominant, and adds that touch of care or love. I was also overall trying to aim for a more...meaningful approach, hopefully I accomplished that.**


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